


Painted

by Higgystar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Kink Meme, tattooAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the kink meme: TattooAU where tattoos appear on people's bodies at particular times of their lives and have different meanings behind them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painted

Everyone is painted.

The only time anyone has bare skin is the first few months after they are born but beyond that time frame there is no human in the world who has blank skin anymore. Some called it magic, some called it natural, most just saw it as a way or life and ignored it whilst others devoted their lives to study of it, but one thing was certain; everyone was painted.

From the moment of birth to the moment of death every human being that was living and breathing had an array of tattoos upon their body. It made it easier to identify the walkers, those with blank flesh and dead eyes, plain as the day they were born and stumbling about unpainted. The moment death set upon them their marks faded upon their skin, draining away all colour and line until there was no evidence of it ever even being there at all.

Rick didn’t study the signs or symbols that people had, neither did he want to but over the years everyone seemed to understand the basics of their own marks and any meanings that were hidden could be found with enough guesswork. Each symbol appeared when it was meant to, not before and not after and though over time they may fade or alter in some way there would always be a reason and a meaning as to why it had happened. Over the years Rick had learned to take a heed of people’s symbols and now that he had his own group to protect and care for he made sure to take a note of their painted flesh and the meanings behind them all.

He couldn’t be certain of course, no one ever could even the owners of the marks, but he could make decent enough guesses and see where it led him. No two marks were the same and even if two people shared a symbol it didn’t necessarily mean they had the same meaning to the individuals. Some of the group flaunted their tattoos to the rest of the world, baring flesh and showing off their marks and are happy to divulge the meanings behind them all. There are others who are more secretive and keep theirs hidden or at least obscured away from prying eyes. It was personal choice of course but since the walkers came about with their blank skin it seemed people tended to show their ink to prove their humanity nowadays.

Their group all know each other so well there are only a few marks that Rick doesn’t know for sure about, but he knows of their existence and knows the people who wear them so he may as well have stroked his fingers over the marked flesh. Everyone always asks how he knows so much about being painted and in all honesty it’s just the easiest way to be able to read the people he wanted to keep safe.

Over the years he’d learnt so much but as with any kind of study you look at yourself first. His inks were a part of him as much as his organs were and in the dead of the night he can list every one and every reason he’s ever found for them being there. Over the years some had faded away leaving him with the most important branded upon his body for all to see. A couple of nesting birds rest over his heart, the two of them pressed close together in a symbol that Lori had paired on her own chest. He remembers that day it had appeared, when they’d said their vows and sworn to love each other for eternity. Now she was gone every day the ink fades a little more.

It burns to lose it, but it makes him thankful for his other paintings more and more. The sheriff’s badge that marks his right arm, his gun arm, and shows his dedication to his duty. Along his ribs lies a songbird, its wings high in the air and a note sprawling from its beak. It had appeared after Carl was born and with every year his son grows the bird spreads its wings more and more. The back of his hand is blank now, his skin plain as the open sky and no longer showing the linked chains symbol he shared with Shane before the infection. He remembers how they’d laughed when they had appeared, showing their closeness and how perfect they were as partners. Now there was nothing.

After awaking from the coma he’d found two new marks, dark against his skin like fresh ink and blooming heavy, tattoos with meaning etching into their place. The scar from the bullet was surrounded in fiery wings, the phoenix around it proud and dangerous as its blue eyes glared at whoever dared to see it. Then there was one more, a small, barely noticeable thunderbolt upon his hip and though Rick knows it’s supposed to symbolise fate, he has no idea just what his fate might be.

Lori had always had more marks than him. Her pale skin was marked in ink and made her look more beautiful than ever every time a new one bloomed. He would adore watching them form, seeing the way the clock face on her shoulder had emerged with Carl’s time of birth on it as she’d cradled their son for the first time. Her neck was branded with a locket, a delicate line forming around her throat and showing her security in herself and her place in her family. Their birds had been over her heart, matching his and bright until he’d seen her after the shooting.

He remembers them making love and he’d found new marks on her body. An apple upon her foot with a bite taken from it and a knotted rope over her wrist curling in over itself. He’d asked about it all and she’d shrugged him off, telling him it was nothing but trying to hide when they faded so easily after Shane’s death. It had been enough and he’d known what they meant then even if he’d been hiding it from himself, Lori could lie but her ink could not. When she’d mentioned the broken bread appearing on her thigh a few days before the birth of Judith he’d shrugged it off and told her not to worry about it. How he wished he’d let her know it symbolised sacrifice.

That was the day the skull had appeared on Carl’s thigh, in the same place as his mother’s broken bread and showing his grief over her loss. Carl had always been so eager to gain more ink, always asking if anyone knew how to get more. Now he may not cover up those he had but Rick knew he didn’t show them off either. The griffin in flight on his collarbone shows courage, a symbol Rick had been so proud to see on his son with it had first appeared. But now there were more symbols accompanying it and he feared for the path he was leading Carl down.

The gun and target on his son’s back makes him feel uneasy even if he knows it’s for survival, he can’t help but wish that Carl had stayed innocent just a while longer. Upon his wrist is a series of knots, there used to be only two there, one for each of his parents but then Rick had found them again and found a third knot. Unlike Lori’s symbols the third knot didn’t fade when Shane had died and Rick found himself unsure whether he was bothered by that or not. The stag that stands proud over Carl’s front protects the scars of the shotgun wound, signifying survival and Rick is glad that never since he got it had that ink faded. His son was still strong and still going to survive this world no matter what.

He remembers how dark Shane had become the last few weeks before his death. His best friend had been losing himself and it was obvious if you knew his ink. The chained links they’d shared were engulfed by a black mass, ink blooming from beneath Shane’s skin and covering them, not forming anything in particular but just overwhelming him. Rick hadn’t understood it at first, but the shadow had taken over Shane, covering his body inch by inch each day until there was nothing of the man he loved left to see anymore. By the time he’d buried the knife into Shane’s belly the man’s flesh was nothing more than a mottle grey of ink smatterings and no real marks at all.

His family’s marks were common knowledge to him of course, but he knew a good few of the group’s marks as well. Or at least the ones they would let him see. He remembers Dale showing the hourglass on his arm and talking about time and how his Irma had a matching one on her arm that hadn’t faded until the sand had all but run out of it. Andrea had been proud of the scales that lay on her back, her dedication to justice and what was right shining through her own skin. Sophia, innocent Sophia had been so confused as to the chameleon on her wrist, unknowing that it meant change and uncertainty.

Glenn and Maggie shared a Celtic knot upon their ring fingers, stronger than any wedding band and symbolising their unity together. The man had a few new inks that had blossomed since he’d met Rick, a pocket watch that showed his closeness to the Greene’s was on his arm and the rabbit that had originally been in flight upon his calf soon became replaced with a suit of armour. It fit. Rick had watched Glenn go from being a kid lost in the world and trying to pretend it was all a game to someone who would give his everything to defend those he loved.

Maggie herself had some beautiful artwork over her body and she delighted in revealing the meanings she had worked out behind them. The wild horse on her lower back showing her freedom and wild nature inside of her. The shooting star on her shoulder gave them all a sense of hope and wishful thinking but the forest that grew over her lower legs was the most beautiful. Rick knew it symbolised the roots of home and family and he wasn’t surprised that with Maggie the colour and texture of the trees grew every day, leaving the ink vibrant on her flesh as her family grew stronger as time went by.

Beth isn’t as marked as her sister, the young girl has only a horseshoe upon her hand and a candelabrum upon her arm. But they mean a lot to her. Her faith shows through the horseshoe as well as with her luck, the image only brightening after her suicide attempt and finding the strength within herself. The flames of her candelabrum have dwindled to only two but they glow brighter each day, her father and sister making up for the snuffing out of the other flames that used to burn alongside them. Rick one day hopes to be enough for Beth that her candles all alight again with her surrogate family helping her burn strongest again.

Hershel had been a man of faith and the crucifix upon his neck had made that clear from the very start. Rick had always admired the man and though he thought he knew a thing or two about studying people’s paintings he found that Hershel as usual, knew more than he did. He’d listened as Hershel had explained that though he had the medical staff showing on his arm it didn’t mean that he was a doctor, but merely a servant of the healer, someone who helped others as much as he could whether they be human, animal or even walker. In a moment Rick had understood the man better and wished he’d seen it all sooner.

The marks of a daisy chain and an ankh upon Carol’s sides have all but faded, leaving nothing more than a space for a lioness to be seen stalking for her prey. Rick remembers when the woman’s skin had been nothing more than a mass of marks around her throat, constricting a tight around her, ropes and chains amassing on her skin. Now there was no sign of that restriction, instead she wore and angel on her chest to show hope and a bright white Cherokee rose sits upon her heart in memory of Sophia.

Out of them all Daryl hides his marks the most and to this day Rick has only seen one of his. The only one that Daryl is willing to allow them to see is the silhouette of a wolf against the moon that resides on his shoulder. Rick understands that some people were private about their marks, but he knows Daryl must have more he’s not willing to share. The wolf signifies a lot of things, but Rick knows when it’s pictured howling at the moon like that, it shows loneliness. He watches over time as the image shifts though, becoming something that Rick is proud to see. It starts after Merle returns and Rick sees the ink he displays that matches his brothers. Only as soon as Merle is back the wolf is no longer howling but is instead running with a second wolf against the moon.

It’s curious to see the tattoo shift so quickly, as if the flesh and ink was used to changing its pattern back and forth often. Rick doesn’t see it shift until after Merle dies and where he’s expecting the wolf to continue howling forever in sorrow, instead there’s something new along Daryl’s arm. The moon remains at his shoulder but now a pack of wolves run down his arm, each one of them a different colour but none in mourning as they run together over his flesh.

Rick knows his group well and he knows there are more images upon their bodies that he may one day get to be a part of and get to study but until then he is aware of who they are. No matter how much their ink may shift and paint them differently over time he knows they are his family and together they will make it through this. Running his thumb over the dark ink of his thunderbolt on his hip he hopes that’s what his fate is meant to be; to keep them all safe and get them through this together.

 


End file.
